One of the best tennis players ever produced in the Capital Region is finding out if he has many days left on the court.

That's Matt Kandath's challenge as he avoids using a valuable degree and re-learns his sport. He's totally overhauling his forehand two years out of college. Odd but necessary stuff.

Kandath's father is very open about the timeline ultimatum. There's no disagreement from the Stanford grad: About six months to a year remains of family funding. But progress on the ITF Pro Circuit — the lowest of three pro tiers — is tricky to gauge.

"There has to be a time limit," Dave Kandath said. "I admire him, though. I keep asking, 'Why do you keep doing this?' All his friends have good jobs and he's grinding it out. It's purely his idea, his motivation. I admire his tenacity."

The two-time high school state champion while at Albany Academy won his first match and lost the second one Saturday as the No. 10 seed at the Colonie Summer Clay Court Championships. Oddly, he played a couple of guys who use two-handed forehands — an extremely rare form that limits creativity, range and pace. Kandath thrived since childhood, somehow delaying the need to change.

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Father and son agree the switch to a one-handed forehand is an absolute must to keep this dream going. But to what extent does a talented player keep chasing the fuzzy green dream, or find a 9-to-5 and utilize that management/bioengineering major? He could be in finance or using intensive 3D printing to create human organs.

Instead, he toils in shorts in the heat all around North America.

"Home is more of a word than an actual place right now," he says with a smile.

He was back for two weeks and will head back to Florida soon (his family has a residence there) to train.

The ultimate sign of a pro pulse would be earning ATP points. Right now that requires winning as many as four qualifier matches just to get into the main draws.

He has already changed to a gluten-free diet, earned a degree at one of America's great universities. This forehand overhaul ranks up there in challenges, even though Kandath actually produced ATP points during his junior-circuit days while at Albany Academy.

"You kind of take it for granted," he said.

His eyes are wide open now. He sees the dollar signs, too.

"It's hard for me to know I'm draining my family's resources on some level, and still going through this huge change," Kandath said. "It's taken two years to get my game back together. I haven't been making any money myself. It's a lot of time to train, but we agreed we'd go at this 100 percent and do it the right way."

Old college friends have lucrative jobs, but Kandath jokes that he's outside getting fresh air and running around — they can have their cubicles.

He also knows what's possible. An old Stanford teammate had ATP status until an injury. His former junior doubles partner was a midwesterner, Jack Sock, who skipped college. He is now ranked in the top 40 of the world and won a doubles title at Wimbledon last summer. It's those guys who serve as frustration and inspiration; a backhanded compliment to Kandath's potential.

He rose to No. 2 singles and a captaincy as a Stanford senior in 2013. He does admit to wondering about Sock's path, but says that wasn't realistic. Dad is a cardiologist, older sister Rachael is in med school at Dartmouth and younger one Sarah went to Brown and is about to take a health-consultant job in San Francisco. Education obviously matters and it does to him, too.

He says there were bad hitches in his old forehand that have led to him finally "take a shot in the dark" shortly after graduation.

He misses his old style for certain shots, but still felt "very in control" at a solid local tournament, which included various talented collegians. Organizer Greg Roman bends over backwards for participants, offering up free sports drinks and beer and 4 a.m. racquet re-strings.

He was happy to see the local star, as well, chasing a $1,350 first-place prize.

Kandath even scarfed a few slices of pizza the past two weeks, around the rigid diet. He's seeking the big picture in a big hurry.

"It's a passion, I guess," he said while still wearing all of his old Stanford gear. "It's something I'm not quite ready to hang up."